Perspective of a Nadder
by xXTigress1776Xx
Summary: I am alone, alone in this world. I have no friends, and no family. And above all, I have no love for my captors. Of course, I never expected that one would become nearer and dearer to me than anything ever has been.


**Thanks for the kind reviews! **

**Transformers 0: Thank you! I wanted to really accentuate Stormfly and Astrid's bond.**

**Guest: Thanks. :) I hope to write more of these in the future. Cke1st actually inspired me. :)**

**Weird the Odd: Thank you for your advice. I went through and changed some of the story, since my participles changed a bit and I did suddenly start using axes and spears. I decided to just go with axes and spears.**

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><p>I crouch in the darkness, fearful as the wooden legged one yells and cranks open the door. I hear a clanging and feel anger, for I know that sound. It is the sound of shields, the infernal devices that keep me from impaling the humans. My hate is strong, for the humans are evil. If you do not attack them, they yowl and prod your hide with their spears and axes. I hate the humans.<p>

I hear a cranking noise. It is a familiar noise, for I am used to fight when the humans wish to torture me. My door will open. And open it does, sending the horribly bright rays of sunshine out. It has been too long since I have felt sun or spread my wings and felt flight. I still cannot fly, for now I see that the humans have constructed high walls. All the better.

They cannot hurt me as much when I am aloft. I leap into action and try, once, to fly through the metal of the caged circle, but to no avail. It is futile. The only choice I have is to fight. I can see they will not kill me, but I still detest them. They will always keep me here, here to fight them and teach them how to kill others of my kind, the spiked ones. The Mother would kill me on the spot. I cannot say I'd blame her.

I land on a wooden wall and gaze into the labyrinth. There are six of them in there, six of the human-spawn. They are nestlings. And already being taught the ways of hatred and evil that the humans employ. I give them all a glance, my eyes closing in on their weaknesses and strengths. We spiked dragons have quite the eyes for detail, though we could do without some of our hubris. As I am told, at least.

I see a beefy male with a horned head. I catch a growl in my throat. All of them wear coverings, because they are too weak to stomach the rising and falling temperature, and their hides are too soft to survive. I snort in disdain. There are two thin nestlings, both with long hair. I see an armored one, and a fat one. I initially target the fat one, but he is stronger than the weak link, the smallest of them, who I dub: the small one. I can tell he is not paying me attention, instead shouting to the wooden legged one about something.

I shoot a bolt of fire and feel a jolt of pleasure as the head of his weapon falls. The leader, the gimp, yells at him while he runs, yelping. I had missed my mark, but I will not be evaded. I find the fat one hiding. I shoot out spines from my tail and growl as he lifts a wall to block my attack. He and the leader exchange words, but I am too enraged to care.

The thin ones are upon me, but then they move somewhere between my nose and disappear. I am confused. I move my head and still they are not there. Then I hear them fighting, yelling at each other, their arms flicking out into my vision. I clamp my teeth down, attempting to rip their heads off. Curse my vision! Sadly, the humans can sometimes best me with their binocular vision.

They all have disappeared, hiding. I leap silently from my wooden perches, finally lunging in front of the armored one. I cannot see her! Then, the beefy one leaps in front, and suddenly I can see her again. The beefy one throws his weapon at me. He misses. I give my laugh and tear after who seems to be the biggest threat: the armored one. She runs. A perfectly natural response in my opinion, but I would much rather her fight close quarters so I can rip her artificial hide away and crunch her in my jaws.

I leap and dive gracefully, very proud of the way the nestlings scatter and tremble in my presence. I look up to the small one talking, the armored female rushing away from me. He turns to see her leaping through the dust, the walls falling in her wake as if bowing, pity the thought, and they fall together, her axe embedded in his shield.

I am closing in. I spin artfully and race towards them, certain of my victory. She takes both his shield and her axe. I cannot stop myself. She slams the chunky item directly into my nose. I yowl in pain and collapse. I am thrown back to my cage, my last sunny image that of the armored one heatedly growling human words to the small one. I can hear what she says faintly. I have learned fragments of the human's language or at least the ones they use often. But I cannot tell what she says. She sounds serious, and dangerous. If she ever learns their ways and decides to slaughter me, I will be dead meat. I hate her. I hate them. I curl into the corner of my dark cell and wish to be back in the great Nest. Being there with the Mother, who would eat you as soon as she would a sheep, would be better than the place I was now. At least the Mother let you feel the sky under your wings and let you see the sun every day. This wasn't living.

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><p>My eyes snap open. Once again, they are releasing me. I have flared my wings up as soon as the door has lifted high enough for me to escape its shadowy clutches. I immediately approach the small one, the one I have pegged as weak. The armored one is moving in on me, but I can't stop her, for the small one is rubbing me along the neck.<p>

It feels so good, I collapse onto the ground. As I stare hazily up at the small one, I decide I like him. And I decide he will be known to me as the kind one. The armored one has her axe raised, but she stops as she realizes the kind one beat her to the punch. I almost laugh, but am too happy. I feel loved, and am so docile, they have no trouble leading me back to the cage. I am sad, however, when the kind one leaves, the door closing my view of him.

I hate humans, all of them but the one. He is nice. I am a mite suspicious though. I smelt the dragon of the night on him. Perhaps he is kind to that dragon as well, because I did not smell adrenaline or anger in the dragon of the night's scent. I snuggle into myself and fold my wings over my body. Next time the kind male is there, I will not attack him.

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><p>I do not see the boy for a while and subside into my dark hole, fear and hatred once again overwhelming me. I wait for him to come, but the days pass by and he does not.<p>

I am sad. All I do is wait. I hear the rock dragon, a fat, lumbering beast who is kind but rather slow in battle, leave her cell. There are yells and then I hear the crowd who must have gathered around the circle of death to witness the rock dragon be tortured. They are cheering. Then I hear the kind one. I instantly press my body against the door and listen.

I sigh and crouch down. The kind one will not come for me, if he is always out there and never letting me out. I lay down and wait, perhaps in futile. I close my eyes and sleep.

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><p>The next day, I am startled to hear yet another dragon being let out, this one the horned fire dragon. I think he is arrogant, always prattling on about his strength. But I am scared for him. When they let the horned dragons loose, they never come back. Or at least the older dragons tell me. I have been locked in their death trap long, but not as long as the elder ones. We talk in Dragonese through the walls, but I mishear things easily.<p>

I crane my neck and struggle to hear what is going on. I am puzzled. The kind one is back, but not for me. I hear him talking, but I cannot hear what he is saying. Then the red-furred one is yelling and everything is confusing because I hear the blast of the dragon of night and there are too many people yelling and shouting. I hear the clangs and bangs of weapons driving down. I hear shouts and calls and curses. I cannot understand everything, but everyone is angry. Then there is a roar, and the kind one shouts.

I press myself against the back wall, fear-scent covering me. I smell fire. My senses see, hear, taste, feel and smell too much to bear. I let out a wail, but it is lost in the battle. I hate the humans. Why are they doing this to me?

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><p>They are letting the horned dragon out. I am not afraid, for I hear the gentle boy speaking. I smell the other five, the ones I hate desperately. I am apprehensive, but I trust the kind male. They let me out, then they let all the others out, the rock dragon and the two-headed one, even the small, annoying one. I dub him the Terrible Nuisance. I know the humans have a different name for him, but who cares? They have awful taste, just look at their decorations!<p>

I am staring at the six nestlings. They are not so scary when they aren't focused on killing me. I stare at them and give a soft growl when the beefy one picked up a weapon. However, the armored one stops him. I am grudgingly beginning to respect the armored one. She has strength, and not just in her arms, though I still remember the awful pain shooting through my nose.

All of a sudden, the kind one rubs me in his special way right underneath my chin and on my neck. I purr. Then the kind one leads the armored female to me. I resist when she confidently reaches up to touch me. I jerk my head back and watch with wide eyes as the kind one places his hand upon her metal-clad shoulder. He speaks to her and directs her towards me once again.

I swish my tail nervously, but relax slightly when she walks toward me slowly. She reaches her hand towards me. I am at an impasse. I cannot trust her, yet the kind one does. She has hurt me, but the kind one wants her to be near me. I am afraid, but when I look into her eyes, I see something there that I've never seen in a human, not even in the kind boy's. I see myself. I see strength and fear, and fury, and all the emotions that make me, and I know, I know now, she is mine. There is something else that reminds me of me in her blue eyes, but I can't place a claw on it.

Now without fear, I thrust my nose to her hand and felt the pleasant sensations of her other hand scratching along my chin. I give a rumbling purr and lower my wings to allow her to wing herself up onto my back. It feels odd, but I like it.

By now the others are initiating contact. The beefy one is sitting on the horned dragon's neck, hands fastened to the horns. I give a friendly squawk to the rock dragon, who is currently on her belly and gazing dreamily up to the sky while the fat boy is petting her.

At the kind one's command, we lift into the air.

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><p>It is strange to be flying with a human on back. So long has it been that I have hated humans and flown alone. I had forgotten what it meant to spread my wings and let the cool wind sail underneath them. It somehow feels right to be here with a human, I feel as if a little piece of me is given back to me, even though I never had it in the first place.<p>

The armored one is talking to me. She teaches me many things. I have learned the humans she comes from are called Vikings, and the Vikings call my kind, whom I had referred to as spiked ones, Deadly Nadders. The name fits, I think, so I cannot find fault with Vikings on that regard. She calls me Stormfly. She calls herself Astrid. I like Astrid better than the kind one. He is, true to his name, kind, but I prefer Astrid.

The kind one, whose name eludes me, sits on me as well. He is leading me somewhere, somewhere vaguely familiar.

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><p>We are arrived. I am terrified. The Mother is out of her cavern, and is crushing the Viking forces. I surge out of the clouds, the other dragons following me.<p>

The kind one steers me about, calling orders to the other dragons. I cannot understand most of what he says. I had not figured him to be a leader. Meh. I had not figured him to be kind either.

The kind one scans boat after boat, but finally he flies me down to one in particular. I see why immediately. The dragon of the night is captive, kept by chains and wooden braces. I give a mournful shriek and land. The ships burn. We run out of time steadily.

He leaps off to save his dragon, while Astrid takes charge and takes me off into the sky. I fly to help the other dragons, who are currently attacking the Mother. Foolish! But courageous, I have to admit. The horned one has fallen and left his rider on the Mother. The rock dragon is also confused and spinning out of control. Then, we zoom by to see the beefy one pounding the numerous eyes of the Mother. I cock my head as Astrid shouts something encouraging.

Then the dragon of the night is in the air, with the kind one. The Mother throws us to the side. My Astrid! She is gone! Then I see her and I am relieved. The dragon of the night as caught her. I screech my thanks.

They are flying and dashing, shooting the Mother's mostly unused wings. She flies into the air. All I can think is that they are dead. But Astrid and the others are cheering. I watch the spectacle with my breath caught in my throat, spines spiked anxiously.

They fly, as one, shooting the blue light into the air, and sending the Mother into a flounder. They are high in the musky clouds, I can only see them when their fire erupts and shows the shadows. It is terrifying. I nudge my rider and allow her to stroke me reassuringly. If the Mother wins, I cannot imagine what she will do to us.

Then fire erupts in the clouds. The Mother has plummeted into the ground, and is motionless, but I see nothing of the saviors. The smoke clears, and the dragon of the night is laid down, alone. The red one is racing there. He sobs and strokes the dragon of the night. Astrid's eyes are pooling with tears. I bow my head sorrowfully. The kind male was a gentle soul and a good friend to me and Astrid.

Then cheers erupt, I am confused. Why…? Then I see the dragon of the night has lifted his wings to reveal the perfectly safe kind one, though missing a leg from the knee down. I shrug it off. If he is anything like lizards and dragons, it will grow back.

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><p>I now live with the Vikings, the humans who I have long feared, but now love and respect. The one I hold above all others is Astrid. We are perfect together. Every day we teach each other new things. I have learned much of what Astrid says means, and though I cannot replicate the human tongue, I have learned some more of it.<p>

I was right. The kind one's leg has grown back. And now, I need not worry of every day, instead I may fly and live to my heart's content. And I will never be alone again, for my Astrid is with me forevermore.


End file.
